


How Warden Tabris Was Conscripted

by CarnationGem (Akumeoi)



Series: Ciavran [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: City Elf Origin, F/M, Origin Story, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 09:32:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11101773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumeoi/pseuds/CarnationGem
Summary: The Warden and her little entourage were making camp for the night on the road out from Denerim. It was their first day of travel after the Landsmeet, and Ciara was already missing the homely comfort of the bustling city. The only advantage to the current situation was the welcome feel of slipping back into a familiar routine, of having a little more room to breathe.But tonight, Ciara did not feel as ease as she normally did, setting up tents and gathering wood for the fire. Something had been bothering her since just before the Landsmeet, and now that she had this room to breathe, she couldn’t ignore it anymore.





	How Warden Tabris Was Conscripted

“Zevran?”

“Mm? Something on your mind?” he asked, turning towards her. They were sitting together on a log in front of the fire - had been since dinnertime. Alistair, the last of the party members who had been sitting with them, had just gotten up to go stop dog from stealing his trousers. Now they were alone, though the sound of Dog's excited barks and Alistair's pleading filled the air behind them. Ciara ignored the commotion, the frivolity of which was incongruous with the heaviness she was feeling.

“Yes, I… suppose there is,” Ciara said, wondering how exactly to broach the subject. 

“Well?” he said. 

“Can we go into my tent?”

“Oh, so it is to be a private conversation, is it?” Zevran asked, frowning. 

“Yes, but don’t look so worried,” Ciara said lightly. “I have a story to tell you. That’s all.”

“Oh?” Zevran said, but he allowed her to lead him into the tent without stalling any further. Ciara was amused to see him give what she presumed was a wistful glance to her bedroll, and assumed he was wishing they were in there together for a very different reason. 

_Maybe later,_ she thought. If she could get through this tale before midnight, that is.

When both of them were seated cross-legged across from each other, Ciara put her hands in her lap and launched into what she had to say. 

“When we were in Denerim you told me about a few things which happened to you in the past which were important. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to tell you about one of those sorts of things that happened to me,” she said hesitantly. Understanding flickered across Zevran’s eyes. 

“Ah, my dear Warden has secrets, does she?” he said. “Let me guess: you are secretly the mistress of Arl Eaming. No, no. You could do better. The mistress of Cailan, perhaps?”

Ciara laughed. “That certainly would be something to cry about, seeing as he’s dead and all. Good guess, but I’m afraid not. Actually, I just want to tell you how I became a Grey Warden.”

“Oh?” Zevran looked surprised, and maybe even a little disappointed. Ciara supposed he had been hoping for something that sounded more likely to contain dirty secrets. “In that case, I suppose the story has nothing to do with those rings you wear, does it? I only ask because I believe I know a Dalish promise ring when I see one.”

“It’s not Dalish,” Ciara corrected automatically. “And I gave the wedding ring back, so no.”

Zevran’s eyebrows shot up. “Ah yes, I remember now. The spirit at the Temple of Sacred Ashes said something about a wedding, did he not? But I had forgotten until now. You were not engaged to be married to this Cailan, were you?”

“No, I was engaged to be married to the person my bow is named after,” Ciara explained, trying to still the turning of her fingers on the ring. It was a bad habit, but she was starting to feel that wave of overwhelming, indescribably vengeful emotion that always rose within her when thinking on that day. 

“Nelaros? Is that the name?” Zevran said.

Ciara nodded. “Yes. Nelaros.” 

Ciara took a deep breath. Instinctively she reached out to Zevran. Taking her hand, he squeezed it for a brief moment, then let go. Ciara’s fingers immediately flew back to her ring, but now they were trembling too much to turn it as before. Instead she plucked nervously at the ring as she began her story. 

“My father arranged a good match for me with a man named Nelaros from the Highever alienage,” she began, her voice low, but steady. “I was to be married three months after my 20th birthday. On that day, however, the Arl of Denerim’s son decided he would come to the alienage to find some unwilling women to have sexual relations with. My best friend Shianni hit him over the head with a wine jar. He returned several hours later with guards and took the entire female population of the wedding back to his filthy keep, including Shianni and me.” 

“What a bastard,” Zevran said, shaking his head. “I hope you made him pay, this son of the Arl of Denerim.”

“You haven’t even heard the worst of it,” Ciara said grimly. “First he had his men kill one of my bridesmaids straight away to teach us all a lesson. Then he had all the rest of them taken away to his private quarters. I was supposed to be the last one out.” Pausing, she shuddered at the memory of Nola’s blood spilling out onto the floor… 

Zevran narrowed his eyes in sympathy, until she shook her head and continued. “But my cousin Soris and Nelaros had managed to get inside the keep, and they rescued me by giving me a knife. I was grateful to them both, up until the moment I saw the Arl’s men murder Nelaros front of me.” Here her voice took on a vicious tone. “So I determined that no matter what the consequences were to me, I would make all those sons of bitches pay.  
“I fought my way through the keep. But when I reached the Arl’s room… Shianni was there. She was on the floor. I was too late. So I cut him down.”

Ciara fell silent, her fists clenched, her whole body trembling with rage at the memory. 

“You killed the future Arl of Denerim? Now there is a job that I would be proud of,” Zevran said, his voice gentle. Ciara sensed that he perhaps didn’t know what else to say, but at least he had gotten the tone right. “Believe me, I would have done the same,” he murmured, and she flashed him a brief, grateful look. It took her a few moments more, but she managed to calm the trembling in her arms, though her hands were still balled into fists. 

“Anyway. Later that day they came to arrest me. Unfortunately for them, Duncan was around and I became a Grey Warden instead. And that was that,” she managed to conclude.  
Zevran studied her face for a few moments. “I have a question,” he said. “This Nelaros… what were your feelings towards him? If the marriage was arranged, how could you know him already?”

“I never loved him, because I never knew him,” Ciara said bluntly. “But I wanted to love him. The best any elf in an alienage can hope for is that whoever they marry will be worthy of the love that doesn’t exist yet. And I never even got a chance to try.”

“So, it is simple. You named your bow after him because you want revenge.”

Ciara got the impression that Zevran was trying to make sense of how this event had affected her, and didn’t resent him making assumptions. 

“I don’t want personal revenge. I already killed the man responsible. I want touching any elf against their will to be punishable by death.” Ciara nearly snarled those words out, but managed to get herself under control. “And once Alistair is king,” she continued more calmly, “I’ll make sure he knows about it. That’s why I took him to the alienage with us when we were in Denerim. He has no excuse not to know about it now.”

“An admirable goal,” Zevran said evenly.

“Oh, I know it’s not likely to succeed, but I have to try. For Nelaros, and for Shianni,” Ciara said. “You had better not tell anyone about Shianni, now. She didn’t want anyone to know.”

“Who do you propose I tell, exactly? Shall I inform your dog, or your pet apostate mage perhaps?” Zevran asked, raising one eyebrow. His joke made Ciara feel a little better, though she didn’t smile. 

“Thank you,” she said. 

“I have one more question for you.”

“Mm-hmm?”

“If you took Alistair to the alienage so that he could learn from it, shall we say, why exactly did you bring me?”

“I wanted you to see where I come from,” Ciara said simply. 

At this, Zevran seemed taken aback. “Oh? Really? Well I… I thank you. Meeting your family was a great honour, then.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Ciara said. “It’s only too bad we couldn’t stay longer.” As she remembered the fond goodbyes she’d given to Shianni, Soris and Valora, Cyrion, and Valendrian as she had left, she felt herself start to relax a little bit. Humans had tried to destroy her home plenty of times, but never managed it once. And she had faith enough in Shianni to know that they never would. No matter what bad things happened to her family along the way. 

“Look, anyway. Thank you for listening,” she said, shooting Zevran a quick smile to show that she was really alright. 

“Of course, my lovely Warden,” he said. Then his eyes flicked to the door and back again. 

“You don’t want to leave, do you?” Ciara asked with mock indignation. 

“No, not at all,” Zevran said, smiling graciously. “I was just thinking… since we are already inside this tent, would it not save you the trouble of having to invite me in for other reasons, later?”

Ciara laughed. 

“Oh, alright,” she said.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first work on this account that has never been posted to any other website! I love the City Elf origin story so much. It deserves more love. City elves deserve more love. <3
> 
> Comments always welcome.


End file.
